I wrote this two years ago have some nasty fluff okay

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She had been so stressed lately. Not the usual world crumbling slash universe disintegrating before their eyes kind of anxiety. Just plain old stress. She's frustrated that no one at her office wants to take her seriously anymore because of all of these 'secret' projects she can never talk about. She's fortunate for Broyles obviously being on her side, but it's taking its toll on her. In a way she's grateful for once that the world isn't falling apart. That it's mundane things that are taking a grip on her life now, but in a way it's like she's forgotten how to handle the mundane. And it's really annoying, if nothing else.

Then there's Peter, who gets it. And just wants to make her feel better. In fact he makes a point of it.

He has the timing down to a science, tell me when you're leaving,' he reminds her all day. He's not subtle, either. But no less, just about three minutes before she walks in the door he's got candles, he's got the red wine he knows she loves, and the water in the bath is perfectly too hot.

Olivia walks in the door, removes her coat and her blazer and pauses for a moment to let out a long held frustrated sigh. She's somewhere else for a minute until his voice brings her back, "Liv?" Peter shouts, she's confused, none the less, for a moment, by his voice coming from the bathroom.

Her back is against the wall to the right of the door, "Peter?" She responds in confusion.

"Come in here," he calls then, as if there's no question.

Laughing to herself, she presses her thumb to the bridge of her nose, she's still so tense, but at least she's entertained, "are you sure I want to?" She jokes. There's no response, which is an answer in itself. Shoulder against the wall, she swivels into the bathroom. Unable to help but smile when she sees him.

"Close the door," he says simply when he sees her.

Sarcastically, she nods, but obliges, "what is this?" she asks, leaning next to him in the bathtub.

"Get in." He demands. she can't argue with that, "I pulled this together about two minutes ago, you just have good timing."

"I got all the lights," she plays back.

Gently he grabs the collar of her shirt, leaning so that their foreheads are pressed together, "tell me you're on board, hell, I'll leave if you want. But if not I'm just a sad man in a tub."

She laughs again, he always got so proud of himself when it came to things like this, Olivia found it kind of adorable. She's just glad she peed before she left work or else she could have put a serious damper on his romantic gesture. "You won't get an argument out of me," she tells him, starting to work on removing her clothes. As Peter watches her he can't help but appreciate the simplicity of the moment. She's thinking something the same.

She steps into the tub, the hot water stinging her skin at first. It takes her a minute to adjust. Instantly she settles herself against him and he wraps his arms around her. The hot water is divine against her tense and aching muscles,

Peter tugs at her ponytail, the one she forget she was wearing, she pulls the tie from her hair without argument, shaking out the blonde strands. The tips of her long hair float on the top of the water. Delicately, Peter begins massaging her scalp, she relaxes into him even more in contentment, "should I even ask how today went?" He questions lowly.

She shakes her head against him, "no," she says quietly and adamantly. He responds by pushing her forward, just slightly, and his fingers move from her head and begin working at the kinks in her neck and shoulders. Olivia's head falls forward limply, giving way to let him do whatever he wants, everything melting away at his touch. She almost can't believe how good this "Are you just good at everything?" She rasps in question.

"I'm a man of many trades," he laughs, jokingly.

That, she knows for sure, "that you are," Olivia relinquishes. This is so much better than those annoying back rubs he used to like to give her on the couch. Peter Bishop was actually one to listen to her and up his massage game.

There's a pause, and she leans back into him, which he graciously accepting of. Peter's fingers unconsciously trace her skin under the water, it feels so nice. It's wonderful and intimate, but it's not sexual. And it's amazing how the feeling of him can silence those annoying voices in her head, her stresses dissipating. "I can do better when we're out of here."

Though she can't imagine moving very far any time soon, that sounds amazing to her now. She lets out a satisfied hum in response, "I hope so," she responds, her voice only halfway there, it seems. She sinks down lower into the water and closes her eyes against his chest. Just appreciating this moment. They didn't get a lot like these. It was so quiet and just so perfect. Olivia had come home just hoping that Peter would be willing to call in take out for the third night in a row. This was a better thing to come home to.

Eventually they do get out, and Olivia is looking forward to that massage. She wraps herself in a towel and starts walking towards the bedroom while while Peter takes care of the candles, "no shirt," he shouts across the living room seriously, but lightly. Her back is to him but she is sure she can see the smug grin on his face.

Again, she couldn't argue.